


Still Flying

by AslansCompass



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-04 20:06:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3087320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AslansCompass/pseuds/AslansCompass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We're still flying"<br/>"That's not much."<br/>"It's enough."<br/>--conversation from another Whedon show.<br/>Drabbles for season two; Spoilers up through 2x10. Not necessarily in chronological order, either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. My mother was of the sky

Skye’s strange new-gravity sense, a feeling like falling and growing roots at once. didn’t fall away as May pulled the Quinjet into the sky, nor as the plane climbed higher. One thousand feet. Two thousand. Three thousand…  
At ten thousand feet, she thought she could breath again. As the altimeter climbed over 2 miles, Skye unbuckled her seatbelt. “Thank you.”  
May nodded. “Feeling better?”  
"Well, I don’t think the room’s going to start shaking any time someone drops a plate, does that count?" Skye crossed her arms. "It’s so frustrating. I can’t go out on missions like this, and we’re already so short. We don’t need another problem to deal with right now."  
"You’ll figure it out. Like anything else, it’s about control." May set the autopilot and turned to Skye. "Come on, let’s go to the cargo hold."  
Skye followed May through a session of tai chi, letting the ache in her muscles chase away other concerns. When they took a break, Skye blurted out something she had not meant to say.  
"I’m claustrophobic now. Not here, not in the plane or the Bus, but on the base, all those rooms, with no windows.. it reminds me of the temple. Of everything cracking and covering… but what I’m really afraid of is me. Of what else that—that—" She mimed holding the Oblisk.  
"It’s not your fault. You tried to stop it. None of what happened at the temple was your fault."  
Even thinking about it summons the gravity feeling, the shaking that would draw the earth tight like a comforting blanket. The plane trembles slightly, but May doesn’t bother returning to the cockpit to sort it out.  
"It’s not your fault. I know you. You didn’t try to hurt anyone. " May repeated the words, offering them as a lifeline. "And we trust you."  
The feeling receded; this high, her powers cannot connect effectively. Maybe she should just stay up here, stay in the Quinnjet and only come down for refueling.


	2. my father was of the earth

Sky's sitting in the van, duffle riding shotgun,  paging through a 1976 atlas when Coulson taps on the window.  She hastily shoves it off her lap and rolls down the window. "What are you doing out here? Don't you have, like, a mission to organize or something?"

"Just taking a break from cleaning up."

"I told you, we need to get a vacuum for all the glass I've broken."

"Or we could just have Bobbi pick up plastic settings next time."  Coulson says.  He glances past her. "Did I miss something? Why are you packed?" He looks back at her. "Were you running away?"

She laughs. "I'm a member of a super-secret spy organization; pretty sure I'd get court-marshaled or something." 

"We're also illegal; there's not much I could do without revealing myself."  He lowers his voice. "Do you really want to leave?"

Skye inhales slowly, trying to shake off the heavy feeling in her gut.  "It's getting worse. I don't want to hurt anyone, and I'm no use to the team like this." 

"Have you talked with anyone else?" 

"Just May."

"Try talking with the others first.  Well, maybe not Lance, but Simmons might have some advice. And if you still want to leave, let me know. I'll set you up with a new identity, background, whatever you need."

"You mean, I'll do it. You'll just give me access codes."

"Well, yes." Coulson admits.  "But don't leave without saying goodbye. Promise?"

"I promise."


	3. summery

Once they'd all returned to the Playground, Coulson called a meeting in his office.  There'd been some whispering on the flight back, some questions and confusion, but now everyone remained silent, lost and fragile. "I'll try to make this brief--it's been a long day for everyone. First of all,  it's my duty to officially inform all of you that Antoine Triplett died in the line of duty, breaking the Oblisk and disrupting the ritual." He's had to make announcements like this before, but it never gets easier. "Mack suffered some psychic trauma and is currently sleeping in the infirmary."  

"You all did well today.  Whitehall is dead, and the temple is destroyed. Our work isn't done, but we've earned a breather. Get some rest."  He took a deep breath. "You are dismissed."

He sank into the chair, absently tracing old carvings.  Words, words, words. The same sort of speech he'd have given for any agent, regardless of personal connections.  But he didn't have anything to say, not yet. 


	4. how far we've come

Simmons rummaged through the fridge, coming up with a prepacked bag of salad, a ham and cheese sandwich, and a yogurt cup. Balancing them in one hand, she snagged a bottle of lemonade and edged the door open. She was halfway down the hall when Coulson burst out of the office. "Simmons, I found something you should see."  
"Really? Mind if I eat while we discuss it?"   
Coulson nodded. "Come on, I think you're really going to like it."   
The main screen was three-quarters filled with a single video. "Next on PBS: Following WWII, a new agency formed to protect America. Today, Howard Stark and Chester Phillips are a chapter to themselves in every history of modern intelligence. But another's contribution has often been overlooked. SSR Agent Peggy Carter was there from the beginning. Tonight, her story in 'Forgotten Founder.'"  
"What?" Simmons nearly dropped the yogurt.   
"It's a PBS special. I remember hearing about it a few years ago when it came out. Got trending after the battle of New York--I believe that they actually took some footage from it for the Smithsonian exhibit." Coulson motioned for her to sit down.. "I thought, maybe....if you needed a break,"  
"Well, if you're sure it won't interfere with anything...." Simmons feigned reluctance, but her eyes were gleaming.


	5. as the walls come down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> post "What They Become"

Coulson pulled up a chair next to the exam table. "Where's the paper? You don't know? Well, I'll find one myself." He rummaged around the isolation ward, setting aside beakers, flasks, tablets and needles until he found a printout of blood work results.   
Skye lay on the bed, arms dangling limply off the edge. The grand mal seizure had ended ten minutes ago, but he wasn't sure if she was alert yet.  
He took a pen from his pocket and began doodling. A circle, a line, a free-flowing diagram, flowed from the pen. It wasn't a compulsion anymore, but the drawing filled his mind, pushing away frantic worries: Mack, Trip, Fitz....  
"Coulson?"  
"I'm here. You're back at the base."   
She glanced down at the sheet.   
"First every other week. Then every week. Twice a week. Every day. It wasn't me doing it--it was something I couldn't control."   
"You had us worried," Skye said.   
"No more than I was. I kept thinking about Garrett, how he was at the end." Coulson looked Skye in the eyes. "And I told May to shoot me in the head." He kept talking. "I didn't want to risk the team. If I went that way--she had orders."   
Skye pushed herself up on her elbows. "That was a terrible idea."  
"May didn't approve either. Look, I don't know what happened at the temple, but having something like happen--something inside your head that you can't control-- it's terrifying. But you don't have fight it alone."   
"I don't want to hurt anyone else."   
"It's not your fault.," Coulson squeezed her hand. "You're still a member of this team. And we're going to get through this."


End file.
